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the archivist July 7, 2010

I have been writing. Just in very small form. 7-7-10: Raw temptation of sprinklers never fades with age… Wet grass loves bare feet 7-1-10: Red-winged blackbird dreams, Bicycles, reeds in ditches, was this history? 6-16-10: Blame music, you could never live up to sacred memories of you June 3, 2010: ‘Late submission’ Priorities change. Scarlett […]

the archivist May 31, 2010

I had the first couple of lines, with their curious, beautiful syntax, stuck in my head today. I struggled to recall where they were from. Shakespeare, obviously, but where? One of the plays with end-rhymed soliloquies? That narrows it, but contextually, they could fit in many places. Shakespeare is full of suitable matches. I had […]

the archivist April 28, 2010

The Woman That Had More Babies Than That Wallace Stevens I An acrobat on the border of the sea Observed the waves, the rising and the swell And the first line spreading up the beach; again, The rising and the swell, the preparation And the first line foaming over the sand; again, The rising and […]

the archivist April 9, 2010

Plaint Theodore Roethke Day after somber day I think my neighbors strange; In Hell there is no change. Where’s my eternity Of inward blessedness? I lack plain tenderness. Where is the knowledge that Could lead me to my God? Not on this dusty road Or afternoon of light Diminished by the haze Of late November […]

the archivist March 8, 2010

For all the Russian literature I’ve studied, and the amount of time I devote to Blok, my strongest emotional attachments are to American poets (and the occasional Briton). I know I’ve posted plenty of Roethke here in the past, and truth be told, I should have done an English master’s and written about him. Would […]

the archivist February 6, 2010

Written from a hospital bed in 1875, after the 26-year-old Henley had had his leg amputated as a result of tuberculosis of the bone. Originally untitled, Arthur Quiller-Couch bestowed the name “Invictus” (“Unvanquished”) when he included it in The Oxford Book of English Verse. This was the poem Nelson Mandela kept on a scrap of […]

the archivist January 16, 2010

This lovely series of drawings parallels my own changing relationship to the bean. “I must have been 5 when I first discovered the taste of coffee, when I was accidentally given a scoop of coffee ice cream. I was inconsolable: how could grown-ups ruin something as wonderful as ice cream with something as disgusting as […]

the archivist November 18, 2009

An art project made of found audio and video, for my “Works on Paper” class. Oh What a World that Ends